RuneScape - Ragnarok
This article, RuneScape - Ragnarok, is a Role-Play Article. = Basic Idea = RuneScape has for decades thronged with adventurers, some changing the world as we know it, others not. But the times of peace and stability that for years has been in control is soon to be shattered. The Khult, an army of magi, are preparing a massive invasion to wipe the world of all the non-magic users. They are not the only threat - in the shadows, other groups lie in wait for the time to strike. It will be up to the various heroes scattered across the world to turn the tide and save RuneScape from complete oblivion by the combined forces of evil. = Rules = #All posts must work with both the wiki's and Jagex's rules. #Everyone should work together while writing. #This role play is set in the RuneScape universe. So no space ships, nukes or whatever. (See below for a guide) #This role play is open to all, but especially the newer users of the wiki. So experienced users, try and help them out. #No using another person's characters without permission. #Enjoy yourself! Let this role play be entertaining for both you and the reader. = Fictional items = To ensure that the role play is set properly within the RuneScape universe, I've made some guidelines as to what you can and can't use in the role play. (These are examples to show the category - if you have any questions, contact me with a link to the page and I'll decide what to do). Allowed If it looks like you'd find it in RuneScape, or got a feasible RuneScape-based backstory, then it's allowed. For instance, Jigo22's Flamed gloves are allowed to be used. As for locations, as long as they don't displace anything real that's okay - for instance, destroying Crandor isn't allowed. SenjutsuVII's Shuin_Island image would be allowed, as it doesn't actively displace anything in RuneScape. Making references to the events in fan-made quests is fine, provided they don't drastically alter the continuity of RuneScape. I'm adding a concession here - because I want to make this realistic to both the real world and RuneScape, I'm going to let you say that all RuneScape cities and towns are significantly larger, and that the RuneScape world itself is also enlarged - imagine each square in the countryside of the game being equivalent to a mile or so. That way RuneScape is large enough for a feasible geo-politcal landscape (and population - Varrock has about 20 or so NPCs tha rule a kingdom?). And also for the fact that, if the Khult invaded with it's 30,000 so members, there'd barely be a space left in the game world. Disallowed If it's got anything more advanced than 17th century Europe, I don't wanna hear about it. = Participants = *Fegaxeyl 08:31, 17 April 2009 (UTC) * 21:13, 17 April 2009 (UTC) * God of Berusness 22:39, 20 April 2009 (UTC) * *SenjutsuVII 06:42, 18 April 2009 (UTC) * . 10:45, 18 April 2009 (UTC) *Mr. Garrison 13:20, 18 April 2009 (UTC) *Wightwing 03:41, 27 April 2009 (UTC) *Andrew 17:33, 18 April 2009 (UTC) - Minor *Lolman180l * 21:10, 29 April 2009 (UTC) =Characters= You must have signed as a participant before you can add your characters. Fegaxeyl *Name: Elix Makar **Age: 39 **Aim: To restore himself to his former glory **Occupation: Mercenary for criminal gangs **Allignment: Good **Religion: Saradomin *Name: Marat Xeyos **Age: Unknown; reckoned around 200 years **Aim: To bring all of RuneScape under his control **Occupation: Supreme leader of the Khult **Allignment: Evil **Religion: None Chiafriend12 *Name: Chia Bollin **Age: 26 **Aim: Protect his nation from any threats it may face **Occupation: Falador Guard **Allignment: Good **Religion: Saradomin *Name: Horacio Demwalli **Age: 30 **Aim: One day become an influential leader of Asgarnia **Occupation: Falador Guard Captain **Allignment: Good **Religion: Guthix *Name: Jon Ransaid **Age: 28 **Aim: Fight crime and the 'forces of evil'. **Occupation: Falador Guard Deputee **Allignment: Good; cocky **Religion: Saradomin *Name: Pyotr Familayavich **Age: 24 **Aim: Make a living doing his job. **Occupation: Falador Guard **Allignment: Good **Religion: Saradomin *Name: Frank Gizzor **Age: 32 **Aim: Keep crime in Falador at a minimum. **Occupation: Falador Guard Lieutenant **Allignment: Good **Religion: Guthix *Name: Emily Draynor **Age: 25 **Aim: Protect Falador from law breakers. **Occupation: Falador Guard Deputee **Allignment: Good **Religion: Saradomin Berus *Name: Thaltis **Age: 32 **Aim: To assist the Khult in its invasion and then take out Marat. **Occupation: Higher ranked member of the Khult. **Allignment: Evil **Religion: None *Name: Sileo Umbra **Age: Unknown **Aim: To somehow come out on top after the chaos. **Occupation: Thief, Murderer, Leader of the Whispered Death. **Allignment: Neutral. He is just looking to come out on top. **Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder). *Name: Timor **Age: 29 **Aim: Assist Sileo Umbra. **Occupation: First Master of the Whispered Death. **Allignment: Neutral. **Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder). *Name: Ruo Letalis **Age: 37 **Aim: Assist Sileo Umbra. **Occupation: Second Master of the Whispered Death. **Allignment: Neutral. **Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder). *Name: Crescent Seiler **Age: 32 **Aim: Assist Sileo Umbra. **Occupation: Third Master of the Whispered Death. **Allignment: Neutral. **Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder). *Name: Robin Erus **Age: 29 **Aim: Assist Sileo Umbra. **Occupation: Fourth Master of the Whispered Death. **Allignment: Neutral. **Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder). SenjutsuVII *Name: Warlic Seraph **Age: Always 60, never ages **Aim: To assist the Khult and to destroy all sentient beings on runescape **Occupation: Dark Mage **Alignment: Evil **Religion: Medaroth (an ancient mini-religion which is based on magics and sorcery} *Name: Metus Helicaa **Age: 31 **Aim: To seek and destroy his Nemesis from his past **Occupation: None; An adventurer on runescape **Alignment: Any if it takes him a step closer to achieve his goal **Religion: Guthix *Name: Mark Phillips **Age: 28 **Aim: To become a powerful warrior and assist Marat **Occupation: General of Protectors **Alignment: Good **Religion: Guthix *Name: Lance Rider **Age: 31 **Aim: To look good and to be known to many people across runescape, and to stop Warlic Seraph **Occupation: A Retired Admiral **Alignment: Good **Religion: Saradomin *Name: Thetys Minas **Age: 78 **Aim: To train Lance to be able to defeat Warlic Seraph **Occupation: A powerful mage **Alignment: Good **Religion: Medaroth The evil dude *Name: Lustan Moar **Age: 45 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Guild Leader/ Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Aurora Sharpshot **Age: 23 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Zane Furel **Age: 33 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: TzHaar-Ket-Hax **Age: 250 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Snipes **Age: 177 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Nastre **Age: 111 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: B-OOM **Age: Unknown **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Brutus **Age: 90 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Toadfinger **Age: 60 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Bonecrusher **Age: 101 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Rockgrinder **Age: 101 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Alvion Shareen **Age: 32 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None *Name: Hammersmith **Age: 50 **Aim: To work for the right price **Occupation: Bounty Hunter **Allignment: Neutral **Religion: None Mr. Garrison *Name: Mr. Collins **Age: 61 **Aim: To collect **Occupation: Retired to Lumbridge; former merchant in Ardougne **Alignment: Morally grey **Religion: Armadyl *Name: Neville Jones **Age: 21 **Aim: To fight back against 'the enemy' **Occupation: Too deluded to be employed **Alignment: Good **Religion: 'The Great God of the Clock Tower' ToaBionicle *Name: Death **Age: Infinite **Aim: To usher souls into the next world **Occupation: The anthropomorphic personification of Death. **Alignment: Amoral - no understanding of right or wrong. **Religion: None *Name: Orion **Age: 82 **Aim: To assist Death. **Occupation: Death's Apprentice **Alignment: Good **Religion: Saradomin Jack Spiral1 *Name: Jack **Age: 18 **Aim: To find out who killed his master, the wizard Alpher, and wreak his revenge on them. **Occupation: Mage/Thief adventurer in search of answers **Alignment: Good **Religion: Saradomin Lolman180l= Name: Ahsa theradas **Age: 51 **Aim: To learn the most powerful of nature magic **Occupation: High earth mage **Alignment: Nuetral **Religion: Guthix *Name: High prophet Thahasha **Age: 85 **Aim: To find the power of enternal life, to **Occupation: Necromancer that has become a holy paladin, using the power of necromancty against other evil necromancers **Alignment: Good **Religion: Saradomin *Name: Thera takana **Age: 15 **Aim: Kill Elix Makar **Occupation: A stealth warrior, mage, ranger and summonter AND necromancer. Can cloak himself. Deadly efficient and evil. No one knows what his face really looks like, as he wears a dark enchanted black robe with a hood and black dress. Wears an amulet of glory and a enchanted ring of Charos **Alignment: EEVVVIIILL!!! But a lone wolf. **Religion: Zamorak Wightwing *Name: Korialstraz Wrynn **age: ?? (Eternal life granted by Armadyl, Presumed to be 24) **Aim: to slay Zaros and all his worshippers himself for destroying his homeland in the godwars **Occupation: Hunter, Ranger, and Assasin, hunts down worshipers of Zaros anywhere they may be, has an alliance with some of the bounty hunters, especially Aurora Sharpshot, who was his childhood friend, he is actually an elf, but was born in falador **Alignment: Chaotic Neutral **Religeon: Armadyl 4ndrepd *Name: Arkot Rembat Menoth **Age: 19 (Just reached majority) **Aim: Live a life of adventure, and end his days honoured, wealthy and with good respect. **Occupation: Reached majority in the last month. Now it lives a discret life in Varrock in an apartment in the North-eastern part of the city, near the Real Estate. He spends, however, most of his time in travel. He traveled to almost any place that he could visit, and he dreams of going to study the land, man and beasts of areas like the elven forest, the mountain, the eastern lands... He now works in a part time as an Elite Varrockian Guard, with his rune armour and discret Dragon Dagger, patrolling the outskirts of the Wilderness and the Barbarian Village. **Allignment: Good. He decides not to allign in a side on religious disputes, however. **God: Follows Guthix, although not in deep contact with the nature, like the Druids, but helps Armadyl and Zarosian organizations, like the Crux Eqal. = Prologue = Elix Makar awoke to blinding light. Streaming through the windows of his dingy flat, it illuminated the wreck of a great warrior. Stubble adorned his chin. A scar cut sharply through his left eyebrow. Greasy hair lay on the pillow. He shuffled, disturbed, under the itching blanket, and then groggily opened his eyes. Mumbling something obscured by his pillow, he reached out towards his bedside table, trying to find his clock. His hand brushed by something hard, which fell and smashed. Elix looked at it – the remains of a bottle of what must have been a strong alcoholic drink. ‘’That’’ was why he couldn’t remember last night’s events. He stumbled, unsure of his footing, out of the rough bed. Slowly, he made his way through to what was equivalent to a bathroom – though a true one was hard to find in the Varrock slums. A sheet of well polished obsidian served as a mirror (which had come from less than lawful means) and Elix gazed into it. A tattered, aged faced stared back at him. Banging on the faulty tap, he splashed the meagre stream of water onto his face, to shock himself awake. The icy water worked, and Elix suddenly became aware of a splitting, almost certainly drink-induced headache. Drying his face, he turned back to his main room and put on his cleanest dirty shirt. He didn’t know why the day was special enough to merit wearing it – he also wondered why it ‘’was’’ so dirty – and then banished both thoughts and slipped into it. Tugging on a pair of muddy, torn brown trousers, off-colour socks and sturdy but old boots, he turned, fully dressed, to the unusually bright window. He was about to look when he noticed something very odd. There was a blinding light on the roof of his room, and a somewhat dimmed sunlight of the floor. Perhaps Elix was hallucinating – the tattered shreds of memory that were last night recalled a lot of liver-rotting substances and enough alcohol to last a normal person a month. But as he pulled back the translucent netting, he realised that it was no hallucination – it was worse. From his flat that overlooked much of the city, he could see a portal of blinding white glowing in the middle of the main square’s fountain. Streaming out of it were dozens of magi. He fumbled for a telescope he always had handy – a gift from the Phoenix gang, for whom he’d performed several unspeakably illegal tasks. He stared through them at the distant scene, and saw, to his horror, an inferno of spells erupting. He watched in horror as a group of yellow-and-grey clad Varrock guards ran towards the magi – and was promptly incinerated by a wave of fire. Building burned around the square, and corpses lay on the ground. Elix watched, and then turned away. In the corner stood a pair of swords, each a metre long. The handles were golden and the blades steel-plated dragonhide. On a rack were several pieces of armour, which Elix quickly donned. A belt of magical potions was strapped around his waist, and he reached for the two glinting blades, sliding them into two holsters on his back. He strapped on his leather gloves, turned, and ran out the door. There was no time to waist. He bolted downstairs and into the lobby. A dozing attendant lay on the desk. Elix shunted through the main doors and out onto the crowded, muddy street. “I knew it...” he told himself as he ran to his first destination, “Never trusted the magic-users. I always knew they would attack!” He pushed past a trader and rapped hurriedly on a door. “Quickly!” he called, “This is urgent!” The door opened, and the apothecary looked at him. “Mr Makar!” he exclaimed, “Good morning to you!” “I can’t talk,” Makar answered quickly, “Sorry. I need all your battle potions and something to clear away a hangover.” The apothecary nodded, turned to the racks of potions, and started to take out various glowing vials, handing them to Elix. Elix opened the pouches on his belt and slid the potions in, after taking a deep dose of each. “And... Hangover Heal.” The apothecary gave Elix a brown vial, which he quickly swallowed. “Thanks,” Elix said, and pulled out a pouch of coins. “I think that should pay for it.” He turned and ran out again. In a few minutes, he was at his second destination. “Hey!” he called, “Anyone? This is Elix Makar! I need backup!” An eye poked out at him through a peep-hole. “Why?” a gruff voice asked. “Trust me – if you don’t give me backup, then you and every other crime syndicate in this town will be out of business permanently.” The peep-hole slid shut, and just seconds later the door opened. A tall figure – though not as tall as Elix – looked at him. Inside were a dozen armed vagabonds – not the finest by any means, even for the lowly Black Arm Gang – but they were help nonetheless. “Come on!” Elix called, and the figures followed him out. They pushed their way without any regard for others’ pain up the north-south avenue of the town, which was thronging with people rushing away from the city. “What’s happening?” one of Elix’s newfound party called. “You’ll find out!” he replied, and kept running. It took just five minutes to reach what had been the city square. “What the hell...” Elix said. It was a scene of chaos – dead bodes strewn everywhere, burning buildings, and three dozen staff-wielding magi causing chaos. “Get them!” Elix ordered. “Hell, it’s chaos time!” One of his companions yelled, as they ran towards the figures – a tall, goateed young wizard who was throwing an arc of ice into what had been a clothes shop. The wizard turned to face the oncoming group, and it’s leader, the war-mad figure of Elix. The wizard turned and pointed the staff at them. A villainous look appeared in his eye – and then he vanished. Elix skidded to a halt as the entire group of malevolent magicians disappeared into thin air. A series of blue rings shuffled around each one as they vanished. Moments later, so did the orb of white light in the fountain. There was a mysterious calm in the square, despite the chaos around and within it. “You still sure about the danger?” a gang member asked. “Pretty sure,” Elix replied, “That was just... the beginning.” ---- The chamber was dark, illuminated only by the flickering candles that lined the walls of the chamber. They cast an eerie orange light throughout the chamber, which wasn’t quite rectangular; towards the far end – and far away it was – the walls were visibly angled inwards, towards a gigantic throne. The perfect surface of the walls, carved from perfect runite ore and levelled with an accuracy impossible with conventional tools, were indented every few hundred metres with alcoves the height of many men, each containing a statue of a great wizard, long dead. The roof was vaulted, curving up and around, and painted on it with delicate finesse were scenes no self-respecting mage could not know. They ran chronologically – above the great wooden doors was the creation of the world, onwards through the devastating God Wars, to the discovery of magic, the burning of the Wizard’s Tower, until eventually, as one reached the imposing throne at the end, the scenes were left blank, waiting for the next chapter of magical history to be inscribed. Under these a procession of magi walked down, clad in robes of white and gold that glinted in the candlelight. Their hoods remained up; they gazed at the ground. On the heart of each robe was a representation of one of the many runes known to magi, the inscriptions glittering. At the head of the column was a short but nonetheless imposing figure. He was an exception to the twenty that followed behind him: his robes were crimson, and striped with bursts of a shining yellow. His hood was down, exposing a head that was almost bald, with only a few wisps of grey hair to cover it. They passed under the last few years of history, and then stopped. The figures following the short figure spread out into an arc behind him. The man walked forward, gazing up at the throne. It was built of gold and rune, and mystical, magical energies pulsated through veins of dragonhide that combined to form, at it’s head, the immense head of a terrifying dragon. Magical flames burned in it’s eyes. The throne itself was stood on a vast stage that stretched to either side of the chamber, where great curving steps led down to the floor. The stage was the height of a man, and a glittering panorama of silver lined it, a procession of the many gods and goddesses of the world. The throne bore several others on each side, each inhabited by a figure of great age, who looked down at the man with a look somewhat sceptic, somewhat insulting. But the figure in the throne had no distinguishable expression at all – the great figure of Marat Xeyos, founder of the Khult, lay hidden behind an impenetrable layer of black, bejewelled armour. He drummed obsidian-coloured fingers on the throne’s arm. “Speak!” Xeyos’ great voice boomed. “My lord... as you requested, a small group of magi emerged in Varrock. Their attack was a success – the city centre has already taken plenty of damage.” “Good!” the great figure declared, “Very good. The Khult has shown just a fraction of it’s total power. Tomorrow the whole world shall feel it’s wrath!” = Role Play = Chapter One In the square, all was now silent, Elix and his party having shuffled away to discuss the events. Not that it mattered. Death cannot be seen by mortal men. The fires burning silently through magical means, unaffected by the water from the fountain that still flowed clealry. The fires cast flickering shadows across the walls surrounding the square. A rat scampered across the road, and a rabid dog whimpered under a discarded feater-matress. There was a small flash of light, easily mistakable for a gust of wind, and it appeared. Death, a tall, imposing skeleton encased in a black robe, strode (or his version of striding, which involved no contact with the ground) over to the burning corpses of the guards. It did its best to sigh, and passed his robed hand over the fires, which extinguished. SOMETHING TERRABLY WRONG HAS HAPPENED, it said, pulling a small hourglass from its pocket. It was inscribed to "Bernard Levy", the guard, and still had at least 30 years of sand left to go. THIS WAS NOT MEANT TO HAPPEN. It shifted away and reached inside its robe to reveal a long, glimmering sword made from bone and some other, magical material. As he lifted it, it seemed to leave a mark in the air, a mirage left by a magical presence. In two clean swipes it passed the blade through the bodies, and the airy souls floated away and dissapated into thin air. COME HERE, SERVANT. There was another gust of wind, and a dwarf popped into the square. Now, at this point, I'd just like to mention what the dwarf was wearing. it may not seem very relavent, but I find it important nonetheless. The dwarf, for starters, was considerably taller than most - around 5' 2" - but still wore ordinary dwarf clothing. He had a tight, grey suit that was the same shade as Death's cloak, and had bulging, light-grey shorts. In his arms were a pile of timers, books and vials, and he looked slightly annoyed at Death for the interuption. "Yes, great master?" TIME HAS BEEN CHANGED. I WANT YOU TO TAKE OVER FOR A BIT WHILE I FIND OUT WHY. With a brush of it's cloak, it made Orion's load disappear, and passed him the sword. "Yes, great master," he sighed. He looked away as Death faded, and wandered around the clearing before launching into nothingness. Andrew 16:22, 19 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Two "Xeraz is more important than you think! Please, this is all I can offer!" a desperate man wailed. He chucked a sack of gold coins onto the table, and it landed with a metallic clang. "This is not substantial! You expect me to round up my finest hunters to rescue some crime lord and slip through tight security for 100k!" the shadowy silhouette jeered. "That's just in advance - how about another 200k after the deed is done?" "How can I trust you? You might run off without paying the rest!" "If I do that, you can kill me-" "I don't need you to tell me to do that, I might just do it anyway." "So do we have an agreement?" The figure stroked his goatee, and nodded slowly. He grabbed the sack of coins and pushed it into his desk drawer. "Leave me. I have a loathsome worm to break free!" The man hurried out and slammed the door. The shaodwed figure rose up and walked into the next room, full of an assorted mix of unscrupulous thugs and hunters. "You all heard everything, and now we start now. Xeraz is located at the Varrock guard post, in the third cell from the southeast sector. For transport, I have divided you into three groups. Group A shall hide in a supply wagon, Group B shall arrive by teleportation and Group C will just walk in, separated of course. The rendezvous is the church, right next to the post. Snipes has designated your groups already, so let's get going!" "What of the attack earlier today?" "Don't worry about those magi - they are nothing compared to our skill and equipment!" Lustan Moar, the shadowed one, shouted. The party filed out and lined up. "B-OOM, Toadfinger, Brutus, Bonecrusher - to the cart!" Snipes, the lesser demon, barked. "Nastre, Rockgrinder, Alvion Shareen, TzHaar-Ket-Hax - to the portal! And finally, the rest of you on foot!" Snipes drew his hood and made sure his face was fully concealed before he got up onto the wagon. He whipped the horses, as his cargo covered themselves in a metal sheet. They set off, as Group B jumped through the portal and Group C followed the wagon. Lustan followed on, reloading his crossbow. . 20:19, 19 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Three Thaltis walked slowly through the dirty backstreets of Varrock, just an hour had passed since the lightning strike. He cautiously eyed the shadows, making sure that there weren’t any muggers, or worse; spies. He knew his contact was nearby, he just didn’t know where. He stopped at the appointed meeting place, the end of a small dirty alleyway. Sileo looked Thaltis up and down, with the black goatee and rich looking robes, before sliding out of the shadows, hooded brown cloak covering his mask and dark clothes. “What did you call me for, I’m very busy these days,” Sileo asked quietly, his voice angry but reserved. Thaltis took a step forward, “The Khult is preparing for its invasion!” He said loudly, waving his expensive sleeve to accentuate his point. Sileo shook his head, Thaltis was too loud to go sneaking around. “When are they going to begin?” Sileo asked, suddenly more interested in what Thaltis had to say. Thaltis rubbed his goatee, thinking to himself for a moment. “Tomorrow, although I do not know the hour.” “Well then. I guess you will be needing to go back. This close to the invasion, it wouldn’t look good for a prominent member to go missing inexplicably.” Thaltis nodded, teleporting as he did so. Sileo turned after Thaltis completely disappeared, signaling Timor, Ruo, and Crescent to come out of the shadows. They were all inconspicious figures, dressed head to toe in dark brown hoods, cloaks, and clothing, which served to hide their weapons and equipment. The only weapons that could be seen were Timor's Dragon Claws, which he never took off. Together they rushed out through the backstreets, coming out at the back Varrock East Bank. They watched as Robin, wearing the same brown cloak as rest of them, quickly ran over to them from across the street. “Are you finished?” Sileo asked, looking around suspiciously at the guards nearby. Robin nodded, “Yes. Sold the last store just a few minute ago.” Robin had been in charge of selling the stolen weaponry from the Edgeville Robbery to the various gangs around the area; they would need the cash when the invasion began. The fact that it gave criminals weapons with which to cause trouble also helped. Sileo nodded, “Good, we need to finish up just one more contract before the day ends, and we will be ready when it starts.” Sileo looked over past the Bank, at the fountain on the other side of the street. Everyone got their equipment?" The group nodded, no one was stupid enough to forget their gear. “Good, We’ve got to get moving, we have a just one more target to take care of,” Simon said as he nodded across the street, where a couple of Temple Knights were starting to march their way. They all disappeared into the streets, a Whispered Death moving through the crowds. -- God of Berusness 21:16, 20 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Four Though some of the world was covered in chaos and dismay, it wasn't that way everywhere--or at least not yet. A long distance west, in the neighboring kingdom of Asgarnia, things were fine for the most part. In the capital city of Falador, to be specific, the local guards can been called to the Eastern square for the day's briefing. It wasn't quite time for it to start. Not all of the men were there yet, but of those who were there, restless deputies couldn't wait for the day of normal policy enforcing to begin. "I swear," Guard Deputee Ransaid started to rant, sitting on the edge of the square's foutain, "if Lieutenant Gizzard shows up late again--" "Gizzor!" Guard Familayavich retorted, "The Liutenant's name is Gizzor! Show some respect!" Pyotr pushed his coworker off his ledge and into the fountain. "Agh!" Ransaid called out, feeling the cold seeping down his armor. "What was that for?!" Pyotr stepped back, getting out of his reach. "What do you think it was for? Show respect for the Lieutenant next time." Ransaid crawled out of the fountain, and fell down. "Damn it. I'll be wet for hours." He stood up, and shook out his arms over the fountain. Other guards started coming for the briefing. Lieutenant Gizzor came walking from the Northern road. "Hey, Jon." he called out, unaware of the recent nickname Jon had given him moments prior. "Taking bathes in public areas can result in a fine. It falls under indecent exposure. Agarnian law, code 1.213.008. You should know that." Ransaid tried to look at least slightly happy to see his superior in his current situation. "Besides from it's exact code, yeah, I knew." They shook hands. A few more guards came from the Western road to the square. Guard Chia Bollin and Guard Deputee Emily Draynor this same. "Are we late to the party?" Emily waved to the other guards. Gizzor replied. "No, not yet." He looked at his watch. "It's not scheduled to start for another fifteen minutes." Over the next fourteen minutes, the other eleven guards in the section under command of Leiutenant Gizzor showed up. They stood around the fountain, chatting and exchanging conversations until Captain Demwalli arrived. The air was a bit cold and crisp that morning, with lots of clouds overhead. A distance north on Ice Mountain, a blizzard was going, and slowly making its way south to Falador. In Port Sarim, the seas were calm with a clear sky. Some merchant ships were to come in with hundreds of barrels of spices from Al Kharid. Captain Demwalli gave no acknowledgement to the weather. He never did. He came in front of his men and called out for attention. When he had the attention he needed, he started the briefing. "Benvenuto, i miei fratelli. Welcome, officers." He noticed that Deputee Ransaid was a bit... Wet. He carried on. "It's not often you get briefed by someone who's not your Lieutenant." It was guessed by most that something important was happening today. "Earlier today, we received notice that Varrock was under attack by an unknown force." There was some gaspes. "Baker, Tango, and Bernard Squads- as well as all of Section Three -are to be on standby for deployment if the Misthalin government asks for any help, as well was a company of White Knights." Demwalli pulled his gloves out of his pocket, his fingers starting to go a bit numb. "Besides that, do your normal duties." He saluted, and left for his office. The squads rallied together, and went to their usual posts. Bernard Squad, consisting of Bollin, Draynor, Familiayavich, Ransaid and a few others, took their post on the North-East corner of the city's walls. The blizzard over Ice Mountain died out a few hours later, and the clouds over Falador cleared. The sun beat down on the city, turning the cold morning into a warm day. A bar fight was broken up in the Rising Sun, but besides that, the day was a good one for law enforcement. "So, what do you guys think happened?" Pyotr broke the silence. "Happened where? That's rather vague." Chia replied. "Varrock. Captain said it was attacked." Emily joined the conversation. "It depends what type of attack it was. For all we know, Varrock could have been overrun by another army, or the battle could still be going on." "So that's why they haven't asked for help? Because they can't?" Ransaid inquired, now dry from the earlier incident. She responded. "If what I suggested is really what happened, then yes. I doubt it, though." She smirked. "Do you really think Varrock could be taken over that easily? Those Avvarrockans are no pushovers." "I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Pyotr said without much enthusiasm. -- 03:55, 21 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Five Three days have passed. Thetys hasn't exited his house since news about the Khult invasion spread. He was worried about what would be the aftermath of the invasion; the victory of the Khult and the fall of runescape. He was thinking about it too much that he forgot about the book that he was reading, Chronicles of Liechenhaus. Then, a knock on the door caught his attention. He was shocked to have someone coming to his house at this time of day when it was wet, raining heavily. He got off his chair and walked towards the door. As he opened it, he saw a tall robed man, engulfed in the water from the heavy rain. "Who might you be?" asked Thetys. "I have come under the order of King Roald of Varrock," he replied. "King Roald?" Thetys was slightly confused but not surprised. "King Roald had ordered me to lead a task force to fend off the Khult invasion along with smaller branches from the White Knights of Falador. We are supposed to infiltrate into their plans and cease the invasion of runescape. However, studies about the Khult were made by Varrocks best librarain, Reldo, who had found out about the massiveness and effectiveness of the Khult if they were to initiate an invasion. I'm slightly inexprienced to do such a task after finding out more about the Khult. Fortunately, King Roald had mentioned of a powerful mage who could train me. That lead me to you," Thetys scratched his head for a moment before continuing. "How are you inexperienced if he is the one who personally assigned you to lead the task force against the Khult?" "That was before we knew," "Hmmm, it is a tough decision indeed, to fend off the Khult. They are powerful magi not to be messed around with, aiming to destroy all non-magic users here on runescape, which leaves only those who are capable and worthy to stand up, including Warlic Seraph," "Warlic Seraph?" the stranger "He's a powerful dark mage. He used to be my teacher once," The stranger looked up at Thetys, studying his face. "He must be old then," he said. "He is older than the fourth age. He never ages, which now he is 60," "This Warlic Seraph, do you think he might be assisting the Khult with its invasion?" "There is a strong possibility as he is an evil mage," The stranger stared at Thetys for a moment before he continued. "I shall be going back to Varrock to report to King Roald about this, he is not fond of waiting too long," "Wait!" The stranger stopped as he turned around to walk away. "Yes?" "Tell King Roald this, no matter how much I train you, and how effective the training goes, there is no guarantee that you will be ablee to defeat the Khult with just a bunch of guards and warriors in white. You will need more alliances to aid you in battle," The stranger smiled, "Very well," he said as he began to walk away into the rain. Thetys closed the door and returned to his chair. He picked up the book which was half-opened and continued reading where he had stopped. After all that, he had forgotten part of the story he was reading as he was paying to much attention to the invasion. He started to get bored and closed his book. He began to think to himself, "I'm really going to train this boy? Even if I am going to, he never told me where or when it would begin, no worries, he should be coming back tomorrow," Thetys lied down on his bed thinking to himself about the many things that would happen if he were to train him. "It has been a long time since I had ever trained anyone. The last one I remembered was a complete failure. I gave up training people then and began creating new magic potions to boost different types of spells to make magic combat more effective," It was a long time since Thetys ever trained anyone. Twenty-five years to be exact. Now he's training a young man who is eager to fight against the Khult and try to defend runescape from the Khult's reign. A brave one he is. To Thetys though, he is rather just a mere warrior among the other hopeless warriors ready to become just a slight better than he was last time. Thetys thought he was wasting time, but to the fact that the Khult are a really serious thing, Thetys has seen the better side in that stranger. 10:33, 23 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Six Varrock security had obviously tightened in the following hours of the attack, but this did not deter Lustan Moar. He believed that the military were more focused on any wizard than non-magical prisoners. The gates were filled with guards demanding identification, and grabbing any magician they could find for questioning. Snipes' wagon of vagabonds rolled up to the gates, expectantly stopped by the guards. "Sir, we reserve the right to search your cart and ask for your ID. We are very sorry, but due to the attack earlier, it is compulsory-" "You do not need to see my ID" Snipes said serenely, waving his hand. "I do not need to see your ID" the guard replied hesistantly. "There's nothing to see here, move along" Snipes said in response. "There's nothing to see here, move along!" the guard shouted, as the gates opened and the cart was allowed through. "Something I picked up at a ritual" Snipes mumbled, knowing his cargo could hear him. However, it would not be as easy for Lustan and Group C to enter. Being a bounty hunter had its price, like getting on the Most Wanted lists. However, they had managed to forge their own identity tablets, although it remained to be seen if the ploy would work. "You're clear sir!" However, it did work. Lustan looked around, and saw many Saradominist magi being rounded up and carted off the outpost. Damn Lustan thought. With interrogations on, the operation might fail. A beautiful, young blonde woman with a small facemask walked up to Lustan and their arms interlocked. "Aurora Sharpshot, you look radiant today." "There are too many guards-" she whispered hoarsely. "And we won't fail, even if we have to blow our cover." The pair stepped into the church to see a menagerie of strange beings. "You're late" grumbled a dark-skinned man. "And it's good to see you've had a safe journey too, Zane Furel" Lustan replied sarcastically. He beckoned to Hammersmith, a dwarf, to scout ahead. Hammersmith returned five minutes later. "I reckon the place is too well-protected. We'd be very lucky to get in! Of all days you pick to do this, it's on the day the city is on high alert after an attack!" "And so we must abandon a stealthy approach to a more... direct one-" "Wait! Stealth is the best weapon we have! Allow me to take them out swiftly and silently!" Nastre hissed. Nastre's snake-like face flexed, and his slit-like nostrils sniffed the air. "I suppose that could work... do it now!" Lustan ordered, as Nastre smiled and his bat-like wings expanded. He grabbed a long stick from his sheath and a blade retracted from it. He glided out of the door and struck at the five guards with his scythe and they were dead in one stroke. Nastre had managed to work out the guard's weak spot and strike at it with ease. The hunters charged out of the church and kicked down the doors, and disappeared inside. Note: This chapter takes place on the second day after the first attack. . 20:07, 26 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Seven Thaltis walked down a pure runite corridor, his nervous footsteps padded by his soft shoes. He looked left and right continuously, rubbing his goatee anxiously. None must know what he had just been up to. His heart stopped as a call came from behind him. “Ah, Master Thaltis! What are you doing out and about this close to the appointed time? I thought you would be very busy organizing and preparing?” A young, but undeniably talented man called from behind him. Thaltis turned around, fingering a few runes in his pocket, to address him, and found that the young man dressed in all white robes was not alone. Behind him stood three others, young members like him that were fresh out of the trials but had shown promise in the eyes of their tutors. Thaltis took a moment to clear his throat, he was talking lower ranked members after all. “Ah, Micheal. Since when do I have to report my business to you? I was unaware that you were my superior.” Micheal and the three behind him nodded, and then Micheal held up a paper with a seal engraved into it. Thaltis’s superior’s seal. “I am to ask about your business, the commanders have ordered me to investigate any who are traveling in and out this close to the invasion.” Thaltis cleared his throat again, gripping his runes under his cloak harder. He thought hard, trying to come up with a lie. He feigned insult, “Me? I was over at the Grand Exchange, making sure that my shipment of Battlestaves was in.” “Battlestaves?” Micheal asked, his face filled with new confusion. “Yes. My Battlestaves. I had bought them through the Grand Exchange because the demand for them was very high in our supply,” Thaltis knew he had him. Micheal nodded, it made sense in a way. “Very well… You may go. Don’t let the commanders catch you leaving again. We are to stay put to make sure of no spies.” Thaltis nodded his ascent, and Micheal and the three mages turned and walked down the corridor. Thaltis wiped his head with his sleeve and continued his walk back to his room. That was a close one. ---- The four shadowy figures practically flew through the sewers, sneaking almost invisibly through the skeleton infested areas and hiding away from light provided by the sewer grates. Sileo, Timor, Ruo, Crescent, and Robin stopped in a small stone room, one of the all to common dead ends in the sewer. They stopped a moment, going through their gear. Sileo glared around the darkness. “Everyone got their pouches? Ranged weapons? Teletabs?” Sileo asked in rapid sucession. He was answered by a chorus of “Yes.” Sileo nodded at Crescent, who then turned to the stone wall opposite the small archway that led to the dead-end room. Crescent drew out his Dragon Mace, and struck the wall hard, smashing right through it. Bricks and stones flew out through the air, and Sileo and Robin jumped through, Sileo throwing his Dragon Throwing Knives and Robin shooting his crossbow with great speed and skill. The four unfortunate guardsmen who had the posts at the end of the most boring, empty hall fell dead before they knew the wall had been shattered. The Whispered Death moved quietly through the hallways, heading through the heavily guarded stone passages slowly but surely. God of Berusness 01:29, 28 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Eight "Come back 'ere you little swine!" snapped the baker. "Never! By the name of paint I shall succeed!" yelled Neville. Neville Jones was an interesting character, he came across as somewhat deluded and pathetic on the surface, but looking deeper, something else is stirring. In his blood flows the urge for justice! The urge to help all those people who can't help themselves living like broken slum folk! And anyone else who needed it... The street was long and winding as Neville cut in and out of stalls and dodged people passing by with all kinds of things in their hands. He snatched a tattered basket full of potatoes from a woman's hands. "This shall make the perfect headwear to help fight the enemy!" he exclaimed as he put the hat on, causing potatoes to roll out across the road. "That was my dinner you little-" began the woman. ---- Meanwhile, in the streets of West Ardougne, Neville began to stumble about, drunk on grapes of all things. "So comrades! There's definitely something going on in that Clocktower! The ghosts have infiltrated his Lordnesseses' domainion!" Neville snapped at a zombie wearing the basket as a hat. The zombie groaned in response, and then a Mourner came over. "You do know you're talking to a zombie, sir," the Mourner began, "and where's your gas mask?" "Wine? Who said I took your wine! And for the record it tasted of piddle!" Neville snapped. "That is a zombie you are talking to!" "And so would you be if you'd drunk as much as you and me and him! He's merely a drunkard hero trying to fight back, not unlike myself! If he's a zombie why's his skin all broken and blue. Hold on, you lying villain! You told me you were an elven traveller from far, far away in a magical town! I think I'll taketh my hat back!" Neville snatched the basket and pushed the Mourner into the zombie who dragged him away... "And now for my grand escape! The Clocktower is the only one I can trust from now on!" Neville exclaimed as he sprinted in the direction of the city gate. * Mr. Garrison 16:41, 29 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Nine In the darkness of the massive Khult chamber, thousands upon thousands of magi were gathered. The chamber itself had been redesigned through powerful magic to accommodate the immense number of souls standing ready. “Magi!” boomed the voice of Marat Xeyos, “Three days ago we launched a small raid in Varrock. A mere thirty of our number caused havoc and chaos in the sinful city! The world has been shaken, and people are confused, scared, wary – by a mere thousandth of our number for but half an hour! In a day our entire force could revamp the world! In a week it would be changed beyond recognition! In a month, maybe – just maybe - our utopia will have been realised.” A great cheer rose from the countless thousands gathered in the chamber. “You all know what to do! There are portals to every important place in the world! You have all had your briefing; enter these portals and enter the world! Let none of the unbelievers survive! And let all those worthy of our mercy join us! Destroy the buildings of the flawed civilizations of yesterday to clear a way for the foundation of tomorrow’s world! Go now, my magi! Change the world!” ---- Elix Makar sat hunched over the bar, drinking deep. Scattered around him were a fair share of empty glasses, froth still sticking to their sides. He had been ridiculed by the Black Arm Gang for his false alarm, and had had to deal with several of their agents trying to attack him or steal from his flat. As such, he was now wearing his armour, so it wasn’t stolen –or worse, savaged. The landlord walked up to him. “Another beer, Elix?” he asked. “Wozzat? Er... I’vad enough.” Elix’s voice was slurred and difficult to translate – except by the landlord, who was fluent in the language of the drunk. “Akchooly...” Elix continued, “Gimme ‘nother.” The landlord shrugged, nodded, and then poured another drink for Elix. He was about to drink it when suddenly a young man barged through the door. “Everyone come quickly!” he yelled out, “It’s happening again!” There was no need to say what ‘it’ was – the news had travelled with immense speed, and even those who weren’t there at the time had heard at least half a dozen different stories of the attack three days previously. The bar emptied – some ran outside and away, whilst the majority clustered to the windows or outside. Elix stumbled through the door of the Blue Moon Inn to look at what was going on. A vast crowd was lining the avenue, and once again there was a great, almost blinding light coming from the end of it. And then, just as before, screams began. A human wave erupted, rushing away from the massive portal. In the distance flames began to flicker, and smoke rose. So to emerged a squadron of dragons, leaping across the sky, and then wheeling down to attack. Flame erupted from their mouths, incinerating buildings. Two dragons, a large black one and a smaller red one turned on the seething mass of people. A few arrows were fired at the beasts – unsuccessfully. The beasts poured out two pillars of flame into the mob. Screams came and went. Elix barged his way through the crowd, pushing his way out. The city walls were in sight. A minute later he was through them. The guards had disintegrated, fleeing into the countryside. The mob was moving down the path, but also a few scattering into the countryside. Elix looked and saw, in the distance, another portal of blinding light at the Dark Wizard’s circle. Wizards swarmed from it, approaching the chaotic mob. One of the dragons was still harassing the crowd. Knowing he would be safer alone, Elix turned, barged out of the crowd, and ran into the countryside. ---- The invasion had started. Some thirty thousand wizards were emerging in stone circles, altars, churches, and city centres – nowhere was safe. In hours Varrock was destroyed, and Ardougne subjected to the released Plague of its Western side. Falador alone stood, but even then it was endangered. Most had no idea of who was attacking or why – merely that countless wizards and magical beasts were laying waste to their world. As refugees scattered, the demons and dragons of the Khult ravaged the countryside. It was every man for himself. The war had begun. --Fegaxeyl 17:59, 29 April 2009 (UTC) Chapter Ten (This chapter takes place during the previous chapter.) No matter how advanced the civilizations and nations may have been for their time, Gielinor's system of communications and delivering messages was still slow, sometimes taking weeks for a letter to get from one loci to another. While Varrock was being destroyed, the citizens and troops in Falador obliviously went on with their lives. While it had not been discovered yet, light's travelling speed of 186,210 miles per second could tell the story of Varrock in real-time. A White Knight, who was watching over the city of Falador from atop the steeple of the White Knights' Castle, got distracted while he was doing his shift. As he did on a daily basis without his superiors knowing, he started looking at all sorts of things through his telescope. Lake Crystalmere, Port Sarim, and the great stacks of smoke rising from Misthalin. From such a distance, it would normally either be blocked by the clouds or have such a low opacity it wouldn't be noticed, but because the knight had a high perch and a magnifying lens to look through, he saw the fires and smoke. He climbed down from the steeple and informed the nearest authority he could find. The other knight quickly forwarded the message to Sir Amik Varze, the acting king of Asgarnia. "Sir, it seems that Varrock is under attack again. This one looks bad." Amik was giving the soldier his undivided attention, slouching forward in his throne. "Are you sure about this?" The knight swallowed. "Yes, sir." Amik held his fist to his chin and thought for a few moments. "If we don't do anything, Misthalin could be in trouble..." The soldier stood awaiting for a verdict. "We haven't received any messengers asking for help. That could either mean that they don't need our help, our they're too deep into trouble that they either can't bother to send a messenger or they've been killed en route..." Sir Varze started to keep this thinking inside his head. Many seconds later, the knight spoke up. "Your orders, sir?" He didn't respond for a bit, before he stood up and off his throne to announce his decision. "Rally the troops," he started with a strong voice, "and send them to our borders. They might find it as an act of war if we openly send troops onto their land without consent. If they do need the help, it will be easier for them to ask for it." "Yes sir!" the soldier saluted, and left to spread the order. Over in western Falador, Lieutenant Gizzor was running from post to post, telling his section the orders. He arrived at Bernard Squad's post, his final stop, only about ten minutes after Sir Amik Varze gave the general order. "Guards!" he called, upon reaching the post. The group stood at attention. "Yes, Lieutenant?" Pyotr responded. Gizzor was a little hyper, and was talking fast. "Varrock's under attack, but we have yet to receive consent to enter their land." He pointed at the lot for emphasis. "Bernard Squad needs to rally at the square immediately for deployment at our borders." The group got the message, got their armor, weapons and such, and headed to the square. Jon stayed back with Gizzor for a few moments. "Who's going to watch over our area, then?" he asked. "Some of the squads from Section One are going to fill in after you guys." "Ah, that works then." Jon acknowledged, as he put on his helmet and left for the square. The rest of Bernard Squad- which was noticeably ahead of Ransaid -met up with Baker on their way to the rally point. For the most part, their venture across town was quiet. At the square, a section and a half of guards and two companies of White Knights were organizing themselves, as the last of the men showed up. Once they were there, a White Knight Major informed the group of the situation in more detail than what they were originally informed about. And with all preparations set, they left for the borders. As they became closer and closer to the city under siege, the smoke became more appearant. Once they reached their destination, they got comfortable and waited for allowed entry into the neighboring kingdom. -- 23:56, 29 April 2009 (UTC) = Other = Category:Role Play Category:Ragnarok